


Without Color or Sound

by abriata



Series: Day Grows Slowly [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abriata/pseuds/abriata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Day Grows Slowly. Kris teaches Adam to stretch his wings (and no, that's not a euphemism).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Color or Sound

**Author's Note:**

> For my [kink bingo card](http://pics.livejournal.com/abriata/pic/000018x6/g3), for the "Animal Play" square, and a sequel to Day Grows Slowly. Also, it's sort of bottom!Adam, and I'm completely not sure how that happened.

The tour's right after the competition, and then they absolutely have to finish their albums, and then neither of them's as busy but they're never free at the exact same time, so the end result is they don't get out to Arkansas until almost spring the next year. Adam's pretty sorely disappointed by how normal the town is, and tries to explain to Kris about how everyone's rumored to marry their cousins or siblings or something.

Kris says, "I came from this town. My whole family, too. I'm pretty sure there hasn't been any incest causing genetic screwups."

"Kris," Adam points out, "You have wings."

That's not strictly fair. Nobody knows what causes the anthropomorphism; it's just as likely to be caused by five generations of interbreeding as it is by the mom eating too many eggs while she's pregnant. Adam's not sure what that says about the people who have cat traits.

So, anyway, the town's very boring. Adam's staying at the Allens' house, Kris said his mom wouldn't accept anything else and he really wanted him to, besides. It's not as awkward as Adam had been expecting, and anyway Kris wakes him up early the first morning to go outside. He tells his mom, "We're going flying," and by the way she yelps at Kris, Adam's pretty certain she doesn't know he has wings, too. Kris doesn't seem concerned.

Kris drives them, since he knows where he's going and Adam's still mostly asleep. They end up on this small hill, back on dirt roads. It's a little chilly but Kris hops out and strips off his shirt, coming around and tapping on the window until Adam groans and climbs out. "You're the one who wanted to do this," Kris reminds him.

"Not at _dawn_ ," Adam groans, but pulls his hoodie and tee off.

"It's like nine," Kris says, laughing at him a little.

"Why are you so happy?" Adam asks. Kris had been kind of nervous about telling his family about he and Adam, but now he's practically beaming.

"You have no idea how badly you'll suck at this," Kris says, "It's going to be _awesome_."

"Thanks," Adam says drily. "Wonderful encouragement."

"I promise I won't laugh if you hurt yourself," Kris promises, horribly sincere, and hey, Adam's starting to get a little bit nervous now.

"Come on," Kris prods, and tramps up to the top of the hill. Adam thinks he'll stay down here and watch, thanks, and Kris waves at him before jumping awkwardly and flapping out his wings. It's really funny looking, him struggling to get off the ground, until he's actually up in the air and then Adam kind of gapes after him. He's _fast_.

Kris loops back and flaps above him. "You have to try," Kris says.

Adam eyes him warily. Kris is barely staying aloft, lunging up and down with every wing stroke by as much as six feet. He's beginning to rethink this.

" _Adam_ ," Kris insists, dropping heavily onto his feet. "Seriously."

So Adam sucks it up and says, "Okay."

Kris beams.

He goes to the top of the hill, too, because he figures it looked hard enough even starting from higher ground, and Kris takes off first, egging him on. Adam spreads his wings, shaking them out and then pushing hard with them a couple of times. It's enough to push him almost off his feet so he takes a deep breath and jumps forward, beating his wings as hard as he can. There's a rush of disappointment when his feet brush the ground, but he pushes harder, as fast as he can, and then he's moving up, not down. Kris is too far away, a hundred feet or more above him, and Adam takes a deep breath and tries to angle toward him.

Then there's a frustrating drop to the ground and he skids to his knees. His muscles are screaming. Kris drops by him. "Hey, hey," he says soothingly.

"Hi," Adam says, and "Ow," pitifully.

Kris bites back a smile and says, "Wind. Sorry, it can be a pain to maneuver."

"Uh huh," Adam says, and stands back up. He is going to get this bullshit down. Or up, as might be more appropriate.

It's not as bad the second time, he gets higher and he hears the wind through the trees and pays attention, flaps extra hard and moves with it when it buffets him to the left. Kris comes closer, wary like he's afraid Adam might run into him, which might be a little justified.

"You'll learn faster if you do more than stay in one spot," Kris hints, and he's practically leaning backwards and staying up. Adam may hate him, what with how he's almost tipped over his stomach just to try to get enough air.

"Okay," Adam sighs, "Lead the way."

They mostly go in circles, and not for long, either, because about the time Adam's figured out how to turn well his wings almost give out. He drops down, hard, and Kris follows him.

"Tired?" Kris asks. "I remember I couldn't go up for more than a couple minutes when I was little."

"Yeah," Adam says, and moves his shoulders gently, wincing. He curls his wings in so he can get dressed and they're numb and practically shaking, he's so beat.

\---

Unfortunately, he can't go upstairs and nap until lunch when they get back to Kris' house. Kris warns him, "She's probably lying in wait," as they go up the walk, and what do you know, he's right.

"I think you two have something you'd like to tell me," his mom says, and Kris is a total pussy and cracks right open.

"Yeah," he says, and takes a deep breath. "Adam has wings, too."

She raises her eyebrows, says, "I figured that much out, thanks," wryly, and Kris blinks at her, confused.

"Kris," she sighs, "You brought him home. You told him about your wings, which makes him the only person besides girlfriends and family that knows. Then you took him out this morning, I assumed to do what you've done every morning since you learned how to walk. It doesn't take a genius."

Adam shrugs and winces at the movement, holding himself very still. "You're completely right," he says, because it's not like he's going to contest the tiny little point about Kris never telling him anything.

"I know," she smiles at them both. "So I'll ask again: what do you need to tell me?"

Kris makes a face and Adam considers holding his breath in honor of the moment. You don't usually come out and introduce the boyfriend all at the same time.

"Mama?" Kris says, "Adam and I are a couple."

She clucks her tongue. "Took you long enough," and shoos them upstairs to shower, "Since you didn't this morning and you're both sweat-sticky."

"She took that well," Kris says, sprawling on the guestroom bed while Adam shucks his clothes carefully. His tone's going for flippant or maybe philosophical but comes out halfway between relieved and shocked.

"Yeah," Adam says, and moves next to him gingerly. "Moms are psychic like that," he pauses and nudges Kris to the side for more room. "Of course, the way you hang all over me might have tipped her off."

Kris shoves at him lightly and Adam yelps, flailing like he's injured. There's a knock on the door. "Boys?"

Kris cringes from where he's kneeling over Adam. "Yeah?"

"Lunch soon, come down when you're clean."

"I think," Adam says, "That's mom-speak for no sex in the house."

"Ugh, Adam—"

"Or," Adam continues, "She could be one of the cool moms that's just against sex in the afternoon."

"Adam!" Kris moves off him so fast he almost falls to the floor. "That's disgusting. I'm going downstairs,"

"Bathe first!" Adam calls cheerfully, and Kris grumbles at him as he leaves.

\---

That afternoon they lie around watching bad movies until Kris' mom offers to bring out the family videos, and Adam jumps at the chance. Kris, sneaky little shit, goes and convinces his father they should all go out to dinner, so Kim promises to send them with Adam when they go at the end of the week.

Sunday morning Kris goes to church and Adam gets to sleep in. He wakes Adam up when they get back, almost eleven, and Adam whines mournfully as he rolls over. He's _sore_.

"You're so lazy," Kris chides gently, and then tells him they're going shopping with his mom, like that's some sort of punishment.

It kind of is, for Kris. His mom even makes him carry the bags, because she's perfect like that. Kris moans all afternoon.

Monday Adam has a telephone interview, so he locks himself in their study and comes out to find the whole family baking. It's a bizarre experience, so he sits at the kitchen table and mocks Kris for it. Kim retaliates for him by making Adam do the entire cleanup. It's just like being home again.

Of course, Tuesday she goes in to work and Adam's muscles have settled into a dull ache, so Kris insists they go back out. Adam doesn't grumble this time (he's really not that against flying, he does want to), but he grabs Kris and drags him down into bed, kissing him slowly and lazily and hinting towards how awesome morning sex is. Kris cooperates for a half hour or more but keeps catching his hands as they wander and eventually Adam groans and gives up.

"Come on," Kris says, "Today's going to be great, I swear."

And he's right. It's like riding a bicycle, to use a cliché, or maybe it's more like sex. The first time sucks, but after that? Holy shit. Because Adam walks to the top of the hill and launches up into the sky, and his muscles burn all across his shoulders and down his back but endorphins or adrenaline kicks in and he just goes higher and higher.

Kris catches up to him, eyes bright, and latches onto his arm. It's hard to do, beat in time so their wings overlap but don't collide, doesn't send them plummeting hundreds of feet to their deaths. Adam can feel his pulse at the back of his throat and Kris has been mostly out of reach for almost five days now, so he drags him closer, closer, in slow increments so Kris can back away, so they can make sure they aren't going to kill each other.

Eyes wide and a little scared, Kris angles carefully, tipping into Adam. Then he's close enough Adam can dig fingers through his hair, muss it up worse than the wind already did, and kiss him. It's not safe, he knows, any distraction from trying to stay aloft, especially since Adam's so new at this still, but he holds tight to Kris anyway.

Then one of them changes timing, just a little too much, and they drop sickeningly downward, falling too far too fast, because the wings aren't magic and they're both still subject to the laws of physics. Adam panics, tries to hold Kris as tight as he can get him because even now he can't think to let go, but Kris is gasping and he gets his hands up at Adam, shoves away as hard as he can.

Adam stares at him for a split second, frozen, and then they both catch the breeze, lifting back up and hovering easily. Kris is panting, desperate, and Adam looks at him for a few more moments and starts to laugh.

Kris gapes at him. "You're actually insane, aren't you? Christ," he shakes his head. "Christ."

They keep the touching to the minimum after that. Adam doesn't know how long they stay up there after that, but he's exhausted and even Kris looks tired. It's afternoon, he'd guess, so they go through a fast-food window before they drag their asses home.

Kris isn't angry, not like Adam had thought he might be, so they eat and Adam sprawls across his lap on the couch, making hopeful noises about a massage for his poor abused shoulders and wings. Kris rolls his eyes but shoves him upstairs.

"You can take a hot shower," he says flatly, "You smell anyway."

"Oh, that's nice," Adam tells him, but he goes so far as to turn the water on and get out towels and everything, so Adam climbs in when Kris tells him to.

When he climbs out Kris is damp from his own shower and flopped on his bed, half-asleep. Adam spreads out next to him, unfurling his wings and letting one drop over Kris and the other drag off the side of the bed. Kris pets along his wing like he's a cat and Adam stretches it so he has better access, burying his head in his arms. "Yes, please."

Kris makes an amused noise and levers himself out from under Adam, lifting his wing and setting it aside carefully. "Yeah, alright," he says softly, "I guess I'm supposed to reward behavior that nearly kills us both?" But he's teasing more than anything.

Adam makes happy, encouraging noises when Kris rubs down his back between his wings, stretching poor, abused skin. Adam would bet anything he's got sunburn. Kris leans down, kisses the top of his shoulder gently, and Adam wiggles a little. Hello, looks like Kris is perfectly okay with screwing around as long as mommy isn't actually home. Adam is totally on board.

"I'm not moving," he offers complacently, and Kris snorts in his ear.

"I think I can handle it."

"Oh, you definitely can," Adam tells him happily as Kris gets two fingers in him. He's not sure whether he's more distracted by that or Kris randomly biting along his wings, but he's twitching every couple of seconds and he kind of wants to hurry up, since maybe if they're fast they can get a second time in before a parent gets home. He's not stupid enough to mention this to Kris, since Adam's pretty familiar with the detrimental effect of childhood settings on sex.

" _Ow_ ," he snaps, because what the fuck, there's a different between biting and _biting_ , Kris might have taken off a few feathers there, what the fuck?

"You're ignoring me," Kris says snippily, and Adam moans really loudly and unconvincingly. Kris laughs, dropping his head against Adam's back, and his breath hits the base of Adam's wing in just the right spot and Adam squirms, huffing, "You take long enough," pointedly.

"Jesus, fine," Kris says, and reaches over Adam for a lube and condom in the dresser drawer, since Adam just stares at it uncooperatively.

He ends up draped over Adam's back, squishing his wing, and Adam volunteers, "That's kind of painful," helpfully. And in his defense, it _is_ , but Kris makes a noise and wriggles, like he's trying to put more of his weight on it and make it really hurt.

But then he makes a _different_ noise, and moves a little more deliberately. Caught between laughing and moaning uselessly, because any touch on wings is great, perfect, it could be a knife and he could probably get off on it, Adam says, "Oh, wow," and also, "You know, I never thought of that before," because maybe Kris is on to something.

"I'm not rubbing off on your wings," Kris says, embarrassed and sliding back down fast, like that wasn't exactly what he'd been doing a moment ago.

"Can I rub off on yours?" Adam asks, making an impatient noise when Kris nudges against his hole. "It might be hot," Kris pushes in. "Probably would be hot," Adam revises, and twists demandingly when Kris goes too slow.

He stays pliant for a while, considers just riding it out and then cuddling for a while, but Kris isn't touching his wings. It's the one thing he's guaranteed to be doing every time they get off, no matter what way, and he's not now. He's looking at them, Adam knows, still as helplessly fascinated with them as he ever was, and Adam thinks that's a hint.

"It makes sense, if you think about it," he slows his breathing, tries to ignore the slick, fast drag of Kris inside him and his cock, insistent against his belly. "I mean, they're incredibly sensitive, the feathers are insanely soft, and it's unique to us. It would be like marking, too, which I know gets some people off." Knows first-hand, actually, but they're working on Kris, here.

"Would you stop _talking_ ," Kris chokes out, breathless and completely gone, and Adam says, "But it's totally getting you off."

Kris opens his mouth, maybe to deny it or something, and Adam says, "I could keep talking, and when you start to come you could pull out and do it all over them." Kris makes a tight, abrupt sound and fucks into him hard, coming.

"Awesome," Adam says, mostly serious, and sort of half-rolls to reach for his cock. He doesn't say there goes that plan, but he considers it.

"Oh, fuck off," Kris tells him, and flops bonelessly sideways. He lands on Adam's wing, ouch, and it sets off a shower and spark of nerves enough for Adam to moan gracelessly and come all over the bedspread.

"Damn it," Kris says, and, "Shit."

"What?" Adam asks, snagging one of the towels off the floor to lay over the mess.

"Now we have to do laundry," Kris sounds mournful, "And there's no way it'll be done by five thirty. My mother's going to _know_."

"Well, then," Adam says, matter-of-fact, "We might as well stop trying to hide it," and rolls him over.


End file.
